


Adore You

by gyuhan



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: (if you squint... like if you squint a lot... like until you can't see), Dom/sub Undertones, Frottage, M/M, Non AU, Sharing a Bed, Sleeping Together, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-21 21:38:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14923292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyuhan/pseuds/gyuhan
Summary: When compared together, Jeonghan and Mingyu are very different people on polar opposite ends of the personality spectrum. Yet, somehow, there are core similarities between them that draw them back together in the end. And, though for entirely separate reasons, sleep just so happens to be one of them.





	Adore You

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't intend for this to go above a G or T rating but I have a virgo mars, so... it did.

With a new comeback it’s par for the course that the members each start getting less and less sleep. They’re all too busy learning new steps in their choreography, writing lyrics, producing, and essentially pouring their hearts into their next upcoming album to check off the doctor recommended eight hours every night. They’re doing this together, each member contributing to the album in their own ways, and that means they’re all overworking themselves. They’re all trying their best to do this for their fans and each other. And they’re all _seriously_ in need of some deep sleep and some back massages. 

It’s not like it’s awful or anything, though, since their trainee years have prepared them enough for this. But some members have definitely been handling it a little less… _adeptly_ than the others.

With the group’s “eldest maknae,” Jeonghan has always been known to tire easily. He’s seemingly permanently caught in that just-woke-up haze and ready to nap at the drop of a hat. He could sleep anywhere, too. Laying back on a bench, sitting up in a quiet corner in whatever room he’s inhabiting (even if that “room” happens to be a gymnasium filled with thousands of fans and multiple different idol groups), on top of two—admittedly really uncomfortable—wooden chairs, and he was even once found asleep in a small cubby meant for shoes and umbrellas. When he was given the nickname “slothful angel” it wasn’t for no reason. He earned that title, okay? Don’t forget it.

But now, however, there’s Mingyu. Mingyu is a heavy sleepier. Mingyu falls asleep and suddenly his height makes sense, because if the human body really does grow the most during sleep then it’s shocking he’s not reached skyscraper levels of height. Mingyu sleeps a lot. An excessive, completely unnecessary amount, actually. He can sleep for hours and hours and still wake up yawning and asking for five more minutes. And the actual waking him up part is nearly impossible unless you resort to some light violence (the amount of times his roommates have thrown objects at him to get him to turn off his alarm is frankly enough to sue for emotional distress and bruising).

In contrast, Jeonghan isn’t a heavy sleeper and could wake up from a light breeze alone. So it’s not like he’ll keel over and die from not napping once every other hour, it’s just that he genuinely _likes_ to sleep. He likes to get as comfortable as he can and relax. He likes the weightlessness of sleep. He likes the dreams that come with it, too. Dreaming is the best part of sleep for him, because he enjoys the stories his brain supplies for himself. 

Mingyu doesn’t dream very often, which is kind of ironic considering how much longer he sleeps compared to Jeonghan. He also doesn’t really like sleeping because he’d rather be playing with Minghao or shopping, but he’s still growing so he finds that no matter how long he tries to stay up he always ends up caving into the droop of his eyelids eventually.

When compared together, Jeonghan and Mingyu are very different people on polar opposite ends of the personality spectrum. Yet, somehow, there are core similarities between them that draw them back together in the end. And, though for entirely separate reasons, sleep just so happens to be one of them.

**「❦」**

“Hey, lazy sloth! If you’re just going to sleep then at least get out so we have more room!” Jihoon shouts unnecessarily over towards where Jeonghan is half asleep on the floor of the dorm’s living room, body angled towards the wall and away from the members.

He rolls over on his side and blinks up at Jihoon who is now standing above him looking annoyed, squinting down at him with his arms crossed. What did Jeonghan do so wrong to deserve that mean look? 

Groggily, Jeonghan goes to sit up with a loud yawn that cracks his jaw wide, his arms going up above his head in a leisurely stretch. He shakes his head back and forth to try and literally shake away the tiredness, but all that succeeds in doing is making his hair fall messily in his eyes. He runs one hand through his hair and pulls his bangs back away from his face while using the other hand to rub sleep from his eyes. He thinks he hears Seungkwan or Seokmin coo at him from the couch when he pouts his lips up at Jihoon to try and get him to relax the mean scowl on his face.

Jeonghan doesn’t remember gathering into the living room with the rest of the members or why they were there, either. He turns to blink sleepily at Seungcheol because he’s the only other member standing and if anyone would know what’s going on it’d be him. Seungcheol has a piece of paper held in his hand and if Jeonghan squints enough he thinks he can see some of the words written on it. Ah. So it was a group meeting to go over things at—Jeonghan looks over to the clock on the wall behind Hansol—twelve at night.

He blinks again. Right. They’d just come back from an event one of their sponsors had thrown to promote their album, which was then followed by filming for Going Seventeen, and then they’d capped off the day with a late night Vlive at the company building which of course led to practicing for three hours since they were already in the practice room anyway. And then when they all got home Seungcheol had whispered something to Jihoon and before any of the members could even shower they’d been rushed into the living room for a briefing.

Jeonghan must’ve fallen asleep at some point, he supposes.

He turns back to Jihoon and puts on his best apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, Jihoon-ah. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Really. You don’t have to kick me out, I’ll stay and this time I’ll pay close attention. I promise,” he assures, adding in some serious puppy eyes for good measure.

Jihoon rolls his eyes yet still smiles softly when he looks back at Jeonghan. How could any of the members stay mad at Jeonghan? It’s impossible. Jeonghan knows it, too. It’s why he gets away with more than he probably should.

“It’s fine, just go ahead and go to sleep. We’re almost finished anyway. And, besides,” Jihoon laughs, “your snoring was starting to become a nuisance.”

Jeonghan’s jaw drops. “Hey!” he shouts, upset and pointing aggressively up at where Jihoon’s laughing badmannerdly into his hand. “Is that how you should talk to your elders?”

“Jeonghan hyung’s reaction just now was so serious,” Soonyoung cuts in between giggles so loud that they even set Seokmin and Seungkwan into bouts of giggles too, reminding Jeonghan that the other members are listening to the conversation. 

Seungkwan turns to Soonyoung and starts to imitate Jeonghan’s voice in a much higher pitch than it actually is, going, “Hey!” and laughing it up as Seokmin goads him on and joins in on the fun, their faces twisting goofily, all gummy smiles and scrunched noses.

Jeonghan’s own face is burning as he clambers up from the floor and onto his feet, trying to ignore the way he’s being teased by the other members now too. He doesn’t snore most of the time, but when he hasn’t been sleeping regularly it happens often. It’s not something he normally gets embarrassed by, but he already feels bad enough for falling asleep on the rest of the members during their briefing. Thinking that he might’ve been snoring loudly while Seungcheol was talking about their upcoming schedules is horrifically embarrassing, especially since he’s supposed to be Seungcheol’s unofficial right hand man for meetings like this (though Jihoon has definitely started to encroach on that title now too, always helping and overextending himself to lend a hand whenever they start working on new music).

Jeonghan wants to burn this moment out of his memories forever. 

He’s about to walk out of the room, huffing a little petulantly as he turns, when Seungcheol pipes up finally with a measured, “Wait.”

Jeonghan cautiously looks back towards Seungcheol. He’d rather not get a scolding while in front of the rest of the members just because he fell asleep. He’d hoped that Seungcheol would at least wait until they were alone to yell at him.

“Mm? Is there something else?” he hazards guardedly.

“Take the tree with you.”

Jeonghan glances over to where Seungcheol gestures with a jut of his chin and blinks in surprise. Mingyu is sitting on the floor with his long legs pulled up to his chest, his temple laying gently against the side of the couch’s armrest, an elbow resting on one knee with his hand at the juncture of his neck while his opposite arm hangs off from where it’s resting on his other knee. His bangs are combed down just shy a few inches over his closed eyes, mouth parted a little as he breathes softly, and he looks… young. Innocent, in a way, actually.

Mingyu has always looked older than he is, especially back in their pre-debut days. When Jeonghan was first introduced to the group (later than the rest, which made him develop a bit of an outsider complex that’s slowly started to go away—though he can never fully stop himself from sneaking in those “me or Jisoo, pick” questions to other members) he thought Mingyu was the oldest, his disarmingly good looks and height making him look more mature than the others. But, of course, then Mingyu actually spoke, and… well… Jeonghan realized quickly after that that he wasn’t actually the oldest.

But now with sleep making Mingyu’s features soften and go slack, and with the way he’s curled in on himself like he’s either trying to shield himself from everyone else or keep himself warm, he actually looks his age. Jeonghan doesn’t even realize he’s smiling fondly at the sight until he looks back towards Seungcheol who’s giving him a weird look.

“...did you hear me?” Seungcheol asks, brows raised practically to his hairline, and in a tone of voice that means _‘because if you didn’t I’m going to have a word with you.’_

“Ah, right,” Jeonghan rushes to get out, blushing again like he’s been caught sneaking glances at his crush in the middle of a lecture by his teacher. Which… isn’t exactly the wrong comparison to make. “Right, okay. I’ll take care of him.”

Seungcheol nods to signal the end of their conversation and turns back to the rest of the group, who have all mostly been talking amongst themselves and ignoring the latter part of the conversation between Jeonghan and Seungcheol. Seungcheol clears his throat in that _“I’m the leader so everyone listen to me”_ way of his that always manages to get everyone’s attention, and then he resumes the discussion about their upcoming tour in a few months, leaving Jeonghan to himself and the task at hand: moving the sleeping giant from the main room and into his dorm room.

It’s packed in the main room so Jeonghan has to step carefully around sprawled out limbs, half empty soda cans, and opened snack bags, almost kicking Wonwoo’s Coke bottle over in the process. Wonwoo doesn’t notice, though, so Jeonghan just crouches down in front of Mingyu without turning back to apologize.

He stares at Mingyu for a moment. 

There’s no makeup on his face, which means he must’ve had the time to wash up before Seungcheol had forced the other members into the living room for their meeting (the lucky brat). The beauty marks on his nose and cheek look endearing when not covered up by concealer and if Jeonghan didn’t have any sense he’d poke at them just because he likes to prod at pretty things. Mingyu’s handsome even without makeup in a way that Jeonghan is jealous of. It’s no wonder how Mingyu can have no problem going without a mask even when the fine dust is moderate enough to use it as an excuse when they’re at the airport since he’s naturally handsome anyway and seemingly just wakes up this flawless every morning. 

Hell, Mingyu even does broadcasts for the group channel on V Live when he’s barefaced, which displays a mix of confidence and stupid bravery when you take into account that the comments that are coming in are all live and unfiltered. Jeonghan loves his Carats, but anyone would get nervous by it—well, anyone except Mingyu. Or maybe he does get nervous but he doesn’t say anything about it. He’s a shy boy underneath the confidence, after all. A little awkward too and never quite knows the right thing to say. It’s a stark contrast to his appearance, but Jeonghan likes that. It’s humanizing, in a way. Makes him less intimidating when he’s that pretty. 

Jeonghan, on the other hand, doesn’t go anywhere unless he knows he has a mask on him or his manger has one tucked away for him if he needs one. 

It’s not that he thinks he’s unattractive or anything, because he knows he’s not. Sure, he always puts himself in the top ranking for Seventeen’s visuals whenever they’re on a broadcast just to be funny and get those disbelieving and jokingly irritated scoffs from the other members (or the ego-boosting nods of agreement that make him smile a little brighter when he catches them from the corner of his eye), but he’s also not so ignorant of the way all the other members list him in the top five too (Mingyu always pins Jeonghan up second in visuals right behind himself in those fansign questionnaires and Jeonghan’s smugness about it has gone to his head a bit). He knows he’s handsome and pretty, as he’s been called both frequently by fans and his members—from Mingyu especially, even when it’s been entirely unprompted, like after he’s finished giving a speech in front of the members and Mingyu shouts that he’s pretty when it has no relevancy to what Jeonghan was actually talking about.

So he knows he’s good looking and has that siren-like sway to him, but he’s actually really self-conscious a lot of the time. He’s been that way since childhood, always getting upset by the little things and crying over spilled milk. It’s hard for him to just grow out of it, despite knowing that a lot of people think he’s handsome just as he is. It’s easier to think that makeup and a few hours of hair styling and fashion upkeep will magically make him look so good no netizens would think to say anything bad about him online. 

He’s sensitive to negativity so he’d rather just avoid the possibility of seeing any of that by covering up when he’s barefaced and sliding a hat on when his hair is frazzled from bleaching and looks a little messy without hairspray in it.

He knows Mingyu is the same way, too. That Mingyu, like him, also hates losing (and is always so hard on himself about it afterwards, smile no longer meeting his eyes) and doesn’t appreciate negativity. Which, to be fair, no one really does, but unlike someone like Seungkwan it’s harder for Mingyu and Jeonghan to let it roll off their backs and joke around once it’s said and done.

Mingyu just approaches it differently. He hides his vulnerabilities better. He tries to confront things that make him uncomfortable with more confidence, even when the confidence he puts on has a false bottom. And what’s funny is that most of the time it doesn’t really work, but Mingyu never stops being determined to make it work the next time despite bad results. 

Jeonghan envies that. Envies the nerve it must take for Mingyu to get back up again, dust himself off, and try harder the next chance he gets. Jeonghan has trouble doing things more than once if he wasn’t happy with the results the first time. 

There’s a soft, breathy sort of sigh from in front of him and Jeonghan’s eyes refocus back onto Mingyu’s sleeping face. He realizes belatedly that he’s just been staring at Mingyu for a few quiet minutes now while lost in his thoughts. Which, yeah, that’s kind of creepy of him. He looks surreptitiously to the side where the other members are to see if anyone’s noticed him behaving weirdly. 

Seokmin is looking at him from across the room, a goofy, watery sort of smile on his face like he’s holding himself back from laughing at Jeonghan’s creepy ogling. Jeonghan’s face ripens as red as a tomato and he quickly cuts his eyes away, palms starting to get clammy as his ears burn.

Ah, his fool caught him.

He’s thankful, because out of all the members, Seokmin would be the last one to laugh at him (well, he would laugh at him, but it’d be the teasing, friendly sort of laughing while they were alone in a shared hotel room and able to talk about things in secret from the other members) and the first one to deflect if anyone else had noticed Jeonghan staring at Mingyu like that. Seokmin has Jeonghan’s back and he knows better than anyone else—more than Jisoo, even—what the flutter of Jeonghan’s eyelashes and the way he bites his lower lip distractedly means when he turns his attention back to Mingyu’s sleeping form.

Mingyu inhales and breathes out sharply in his sleep, shifting a little and stretching his neck further as his head starts to tip back against the armrest of the chair. He somehow manages to stop himself from tipping backwards all the way, much to Jeonghan’s displeasure. It would’ve been funny to watch Mingyu startle himself awake by falling backwards and bumping his head into the wall—which is something he’s seen happen a lot and yet still laughs at each time.

But now Mingyu’s throat is even more exposed than before and Jeonghan is left staring, eyes wide, at the tanned expanse of Mingyu’s neck and the pretty beauty mark just under the sharp cut of his jaw, at the way the collar of his sweater is pulled more to one side and showing off just how broad and muscular his shoulders and neck actually are. And Jeonghan’s mouth is maybe going a little dry. The staff have been giving Mingyu deep cut V-necks lately and it’s way too dangerous and hazardous for Jeonghan’s peace of mind.

Mingyu swallows and licks at his lips as he breathes out again (he must be dreaming for once, Jeonghan thinks), throat working to process the movement, and Jeonghan leans in closer subconsciously, on the balls of his feet. He doesn’t even realize how close he is, but his knees are almost touching Mingyu’s legs and if he shifted just a few more centimeters closer he could press his forehead against Mingyu’s. 

But Jeonghan is strong enough not to actually do that, not so intoxicated by the gentle look on Mingyu’s face that he’d lose his faculties and forget that he’s still in a cramped room with the rest of the members. 

But then Mingyu’s eyes bat in his sleep, moving like they’re irritated, and Jeonghan can’t exactly resist the urge to brush Mingyu’s bangs to the side and out of his eyes where they’re tangled in his lashes. He’s just helping Mingyu sleep easier, he thinks. It’s not like he was _doing_ anything. Just helping, that’s all. 

And if the tips of his fingers are left tingling from just how soft Mingyu’s hair was, well it’s not like he’s going to think about it. It’s not like his first thought afterwards is to wonder just how soft his hair would feel if Jeonghan leaned forward those last few centimeters and kissed the top of Mingyu’s head. If he could run his fingers through Mingyu’s hair in the same way Mingyu does when he’s hot from practicing the steps for their new title track and needs to tug his bangs away from his sweaty forehead for some relief from the suffocation. And Jeonghan definitely doesn’t think about how Mingyu will hold a cold bottle of water to one side of his neck while breathing heavily, sweat making the line of his throat glisten, the water bottle’s condensation leaving beads of water to roll down Mingyu’s skin and soak the collar of his shirt. 

Jeonghan blinks once, twice, and then he reels back on his heels with wide eyes, his own thoughts stunning him and making him lose balance and rock away from Mingyu’s distracting face. He almost falls backwards but flails his hands out to catch onto something to stop himself just before he tips back and falls on his ass. 

Which, when he opens his eyes again (and he didn’t notice he closed them but must’ve done it while terrified he’d fall), he realizes that he just so happened to catch himself by grabbing onto Mingyu’s arm with both of his hands, the hand Mingyu had been using to rest his neck on ripped out from under him and startling him with a jolt. 

And now Mingyu is awake. 

And staring at Jeonghan in confusion, eyes blinking slowly through his drowsiness. 

Jeonghan is sure that if Seokmin is still watching them right now he’s going to have a field day making fun of Jeonghan about this later when they’re alone. 

“Ah, hyung, why? What is it?” Mingyu asks after a _long_ , long pause like he’d been trying to figure out if he was still dreaming or not. His voice is far more throaty than it normally is, quieter too, rough with sleep and deep enough for Jeonghan to drown in. 

Jeonghan feels his cheeks burning as he meets Mingyu’s eyes. He does well hiding how embarrassed he gets around Mingyu most of the time, but the sound of Mingyu’s voice and how lax his features get when worn out and tired is always a struggle to hide his reaction to. Mingyu looks so soft Jeonghan could kiss him, maybe even coax him back to sleep if he were gentle and slow enough about it, if he got a hand on Mingyu’s back and rubbed away all the knots bound to be there from stress as he licked into Mingyu’s mouth. 

His hands are still gripping tightly around Mingyu’s forearm. He lets go quickly, like he’d been burned, and finds something to do with his hands other than cup Mingyu’s face and pet his jaw like he _really_ , compulsively wants to. 

“Sorry,” he starts, voice quiet so as not to disturb the other members while they’re still having their meeting. He can’t bring himself to meet Mingyu’s gaze, looking at a point on the wall just beyond Mingyu’s shoulder. He brushes his own bangs out of his face to busy his hands. “I didn’t mean to wake you up like that, I just lost my balance. But I should take you to bed already…” A beat. “Your bed, I meant!” he clarifies quickly, voice an octave too high for their whispering. “In your room. Not mine. I didn’t mean it like— like _that_.”

 _Smooth move, idiot,_ he thinks to himself. 

He chances a look to Mingyu’s face to gauge his reaction. 

Mingyu is looking back at him with a bewildered look about him, puckered lips and knitted brows, but the tips of his ears are red too. Did he think this was embarrassing as well, maybe even thinking the same rated thoughts Jeonghan did after saying he should take him to bed? Jeonghan doesn’t know how he’d react if Mingyu really did.

“Mm,” Mingyu hums in assent after a beat, yawning and nodding at the same time. His arms go over his head in a stretch and Jeonghan has to force himself to tear his eyes away from the way Mingyu’s sweater stretches over his chest and shows off more than is honestly necessary. 

Ah, seriously, was it really that important for Mingyu to start working out so often now? Did Jeonghan not already have enough problems in his life what with having a crush on his friend who he has to live with and be around every hour of the day? Jeonghan already had so much trouble staying as far away from the bathrooms as possible when he knew Mingyu would be showering and could come out any minute with a towel around his waist and entirely too much exposed skin for Jeonghan to pretend not to look at. Mingyu was way too dangerous these days. Way more adult and handsome now, starting to finally match his looks and act more mature than he used to. 

Jeonghan almost misses the days when he wasn’t so aware of Mingyu’s every move. 

Mingyu drops his arms down, one hand grabbing onto the arm of the couch, and he uses that grip to leverage himself and start standing up. Jeonghan quickly clambers up with him. 

“Come on, then,” Jeonghan says unnecessarily, waving his hand at Mingyu before starting to lead the way out of the main room. 

However, they don’t even make it more than a few steps before Mingyu—who is still groggy and basically asleep on his feet—stumbles and trips over Wonwoo’s (empty, thankfully) soda can and into Jeonghan. His chin hits the crown of Jeonghan’s head and they both groan at the exact same time, hands going up to rub at the bruises and knots that are definitely going to form at just how hard they collided. Seokmin laughs from the other side of the room. Jeonghan would never raise a hand to any of the members, but for a moment he briefly considers it. 

As they gather their wits again (Mingyu only partially, because clearly he must be too sleepy to pay attention) Mingyu puts one hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder from behind to keep himself from toppling over any further and Jeonghan tries to remain very chill and zen about that. 

“Kim Mingyu, is it impossible for you not to be clumsy?” Jeonghan asks, trying to look back at Mingyu to see what he was doing to make him so unfocused, but Mingyu’s hand on his shoulder is surprisingly firm and keeps him from actually turning around properly, probably too embarrassed to let Jeonghan see his face. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” mumbles Mingyu, quiet and sullen in a way that makes Jeonghan feel almost immediately guilty for snarking at him. He really is like a puppy at times like these, not even able to make eye contact with its owner after making a mess and doing something it shouldn’t. “Did I hurt you?”

He sounds so concerned. Jeonghan’s heart beats a little faster, flutters in his stomach.

“No,” Jeonghan lies. “No, I’m fine, come on.”

The hand Mingyu has on Jeonghan’s shoulder stays there as they start walking again, almost like a leash, Mingyu using Jeonghan to guide the way and keep himself from tripping again. 

Jeonghan walks them to Mingyu and Minghao’s room first, ready to part with Mingyu here so he can go to his own room, but as he’s about to head to leave Mingyu’s free hand comes out to grab at the hem of his shirt. 

“Hyung,” Mingyu prompts, tugging a little. 

They’re just standing outside of Mingyu’s door now, just down the hall from the other members, and it’s a little bit awkward to talk to Mingyu when Jeonghan can’t even face Mingyu because Mingyu still hasn’t let go of his shoulder. 

“What? What do you need?”

Mingyu’s hand lets go of Jeonghan’s shoulder finally and he uses it to rub at the back of his neck. Jeonghan turns to observe him as Mingyu goes silent, looking at the ground. He looks shy. 

“I…” Mingyu trails off, not even saying a full sentence. 

Jeonghan looks passed Mingyu and down the long hallway as he hears the rest of the members start laughing about something. He glances back at Mingyu from the corner of his eye. 

“Is there something wrong?”

“No,” Mingyu tells him, shaking his head. He looks like there’s something he wants to say but doesn’t know how to. Jeonghan doesn’t mind waiting for members to open up to him, usually at least, but he’s tired. “There’s nothing.”

“Then what is it, Mingyu?”

Mingyu looks up at him from under his lashes, chin dipped, doing that thing he does to make himself look smaller than he actually is by curling in on himself and hunching his shoulders. He does it so often Jeonghan almost forgets that Mingyu could just straighten up, step forward, and put his chin on top of Jeonghan’s head if he wanted. Jeonghan hates that Mingyu does that, knows it’s bad for his posture but also that it seems to be Mingyu’s way of making himself _less_. Jeonghan doesn’t like seeing Mingyu shrinking himself down, making himself less noticeable, because he deserves to be known, be seen, and Jeonghan’s hands twitch at his thighs, wanting to press a hand between Mingyu’s shoulder blades to make him stand tall. 

“Come in?” Mingyu suggests, voice soft. 

Jeonghan doesn’t exactly know what he was expecting Mingyu to say, but it sure wasn’t that. Maybe he thought Mingyu would want to vent about how stressing their comeback has been to prepare for, or maybe he would want to complain about something one of the other members did to frustrate him. But… this wasn’t an outcome Jeonghan had prepared himself for. 

He opens his mouth, unsure of what to say, but Mingyu beats him to it. 

“A-Ah, I didn’t mean anything weird by that. It’s just that I haven’t been sleeping well since I moved rooms…” Mingyu explains frantically, cheeks blooming a lurid red color as Jeonghan stares at his face blankly, not saying a word or offering any facial cues to show how he’s feeling, a wall going up the second the words leave Mingyu’s mouth. 

It hasn’t been that long since Mingyu moved out of the room he’d shared with Jeonghan, Seungcheol, and Jihoon to room with Minghao. He and Minghao had taken the time to clean out a generously sized closet that’d been used for storage in their dorm just so they could share it, eager to have more space and get out of their cramped rooms. Mingyu and Minghao are arguably two of the closest members in the group (though no one could even hope to be as close as Hansol and Seungkwan are), so the fact that Mingyu hasn’t been able to sleep well since moving in with him is kind of shocking. 

But then, in a way, it’s not really. 

Jeonghan can really sleep anywhere and when he’s tired he isn’t picky about where exactly that is—plus when he’s tired he tries to conserve as much energy as possible, not doing anything unnecessary unless he’s being forced to; so, more often than not, when it would start getting late and Mingyu would finally come back to their room he would find himself either having to cajole Jeonghan out of his bed on the bottom bunk up onto Jeonghan’s top bunk or scoot him over and just try to sleep with Jeonghan hogging up part of his bed. 

They slept together most of the time and it actually wasn’t as bad as you’d expect it to be when you take into account just how big Mingyu is and how much space he must’ve taken up, because Mingyu tried being as hospitable and considerate of Jeonghan’s space as possible. 

Mingyu would mostly try not to wake Jeonghan up, climbing into the bed as slowly as he could, voice hushed while mumbling to himself, and he’d only take up whatever little space Jeonghan had left for him. Mingyu tried staying mostly static in the bed before falling asleep, but somehow during the night they’d always end up in the center of the bed despite Mingyu’s mindfulness of Jeonghan’s personal space before; occasionally Mingyu would end up sprawled out on his back or turned over on his stomach with an arm thrown over Jeonghan’s torso and a leg kicked out and hanging off the bed, but the majority of the time Jeonghan would wake up curled into Mingyu’s side and clutching at Mingyu like a body pillow instead.

Jeonghan never did find out if it was him or Mingyu who’d be the one to scoot closer subconsciously during their sleep—or if it perhaps was _both_ of them that tried to leech off the heat and comfort of another body in bed with them—but most of the evidence would suggest that it was him who sought out something to grab onto during sleep, reaching for Mingyu like how otters hold one another so they don’t drift apart in the ocean.

Jeonghan would roll over in the mornings and stare at Mingyu’s face curiously and in awe, like in that way you can’t help but look at the sun for a beat too long just to appreciate its beauty despite knowing there was the possibility of going partially blind from it. And once he would drink in his fill of Mingyu’s visuals he’d bury his nose in Mingyu’s arm or hide his face in Mingyu’s pillow, going back to sleep for a bit until he’d have to shake Mingyu awake and get him to turn off the alarm that he never seemed to wake up for on his own yet would always set anyway.

Their habit of sleeping together wasn’t exactly something they ever _spoke_ about, just something they _did_. 

It was just… natural for them. Something the other members had stopped questioning after the tenth time they had collectively walked in on Jeonghan and Mingyu in the morning. Seungcheol and Jihoon didn’t even question it the first time, actually.

Jeonghan would be lying if he said he didn’t miss it, because _of course_ he missed the excuse to cuddle up with his crush. But, at the same time, it was good Mingyu had moved out because Jeonghan doesn’t know just how much longer he could’ve held back from doing something stupid like confessing his love after waking up to see that— _again_ —Mingyu had pulled him close to his chest during the night, arms wrapped around his lower back, chin resting atop Jeonghan’s head. 

So Jeonghan doesn’t know what to say or if maybe he should have a talk with Mingyu about why it is that that’d be a bad idea. He knows that his crush is one sided, because Mingyu never seems nervous about the little things Jeonghan gets nervous by when they interact, but Mingyu’s obliviousness at this point is just flat out cruel. But, still… it’s Mingyu and the possibility of the warmth of him against Jeonghan’s back, the way the weight of his leg would kick out to cover both of Jeonghan’s, the way Mingyu’s breath would make Jeonghan’s hair ruffle with each deep exhale… and, well… maybe bad ideas aren’t actually _that_ bad.

Jeonghan’s cheeks burn as he puts his head down and nods silently, too nervous to look up and not wanting Mingyu to see the way he can’t hold back from smiling. He knows already that he’s going to have to use this later to tease Mingyu into doing what he wants him to do, whether that be for cleaning up Jeonghan’s mess or going out to the corner store to get Jeonghan a snack when he’s too tired to do it himself. Mingyu doesn’t even realize what blackmail material he’s giving Jeonghan here… and he also doesn’t realize the heart palpitations he’s giving Jeonghan either.

“Really? You’ll come in? You don’t mind at all?” Mingyu asks, voice cracking when he says ‘really’ in a way that almost makes Jeonghan laugh. It’s easy to feel more in control of his emotions when Mingyu is being cute and starting to act like he hangs off of Jeonghan’s every word and never wants to stop staring at him.

Jeonghan looks up at Mingyu without raising his head, eyeing Mingyu up despite the stubborn strands of hair that he can’t seem to keep out of his eyes. 

Mingyu’s ears are burnt pink, his cheeks as well, and he’s pointing at Jeonghan with an elated grin on his face. He straightens back up and leans forward to grab Jeonghan’s wrist, making Jeonghan startle and look up fully. 

“Come in, come in,” Mingyu rushes as he uses his free hand to shove open his door, stepping inside and dragging Jeonghan with him.

He brings Jeonghan into the middle of the room before he finally lets go. Jeonghan’s wrist tingles. Mingyu walks back over to the door and shuts it. He looks like he wants to lock it as well, fingers hovering over the locking mechanism, but shakes his head and thinks better of it as he comes back over to Jeonghan. 

And that… was interesting. He’ll put a pin in that to think about later, but right now he wants to be nosy. 

Jeonghan looks around curiously, never having actually been in Mingyu and Minghao’s room yet despite the offers to drink wine with Minghao. There are two beds on opposites sides of the room; one of the beds is right next to a shelf that’s stocked with empty wine bottles full of flowers and fairy lights and it adds a bit of privacy for whoever uses it. Jeonghan glances sidelong at Mingyu and hopes it’s his. Mingyu yawns, walks over to the bed beside the shelf, and Jeonghan admires how much broader his shoulders are than they used to be from behind him. Mingyu’s biceps are thick as they cross above and behind his head, and then Jeonghan’s left with his mouth falling open breathlessly as slices of Mingyu’s tanned, defined skin start to show as Mingyu strips off his shirt, tugging it off over his head slowly like it’s torture, and begins to fold it.

Mingyu places his shirt in one of the shelving cabinets not occupied by paintings or aesthetically pleasing knicknacks before pushing away his bed’s comforter and sliding under with little grace, not once turning back around to catch the way Jeonghan’s drooling just a little. Jeonghan is stuck where he’s standing as Mingyu settles under the covers, humming to himself a little as he does it. 

Mingyu _took off his sweater._ He never slept without all of his clothes on before when they were sharing a room. Jeonghan wasn’t expecting this. Mingyu has _actual abs_ now and Jeonghan’s just supposed to get in bed with him and ignore that fact? This is cruel. This is cruel and unusual punishment and Jeonghan… is… _okay_ , so he’s already following Mingyu over and kneeing his way onto the bed as his heart beats itself mad against his rib cage. Admittedly Jeonghan has his weaknesses and isn’t immune to temptation as strong as the sight of Mingyu stripping before him.

As he gets closer he clocks that Mingyu’s on his back with an arm under his head, covers pulled up to his armpits, his other arm over his stomach on top of the covers, and he’s already got his eyes closed. Which that’s good, because if Mingyu was watching him Jeonghan might feel awkward. 

Jeonghan peels back the cover on the side of the bed Mingyu’s left open for him and gently scoots under (with more grace and less unnecessary stripping than Mingyu, he might add). The covers are already warm, Mingyu’s body like a furnace at all times, and Jeonghan lays on his stomach just so he can bury his face in Mingyu’s bed and not have to look at Mingyu. 

He can feel how hot his face is and the embarrassment and excitement are beating out all the other emotions and feelings he’s having, including how tired he felt before. Achingly awake now and aware of every inch of his body, arms curling under himself just to minimize the chance that he might accidentally brush against Mingyu in the bed, Jeonghan settles in for the next two hours of sheer mental torture before he’ll be able to actually fall asleep.

“Jeonghan hyung?” Mingyu asks once Jeonghan settles. 

“Mmff?” Jeonghan tries to respond, voice muffled by the pillow. 

He can smell Mingyu’s cologne everywhere here and it’s overwhelming. Jeonghan’s going a bit dizzy from it, eyes shutting as he inhales deeply, holding it for a long moment before breathing out. Trying to steady himself—keep some composure at least despite how bad of an idea he’s realizing this whole thing was. How is he supposed to sleep when he can feel the heat radiating from Mingyu’s body just inches away from him?

Mingyu shifts minutely beside him. Perhaps his head is turning towards him, Jeonghan isn’t sure. He refuses to look. Looking at Mingyu’s handsome face this close with all this tension building in Jeonghan’s chest would be like asking for trouble.

“Can I come closer?”

Jeonghan’s eyes shoot open and he rolls backwards and away from the soft rumble of Mingyu’s voice before he realizes what he’s doing, almost falling off the bed if not for the instinctive hand Mingyu throws out to grab Jeonghan’s waist to stop him. 

“W-What? Come again?” asks Jeonghan breathlessly, alarm sirens going off in his head as he looks back with eyes the size of the moon at Mingyu who’s now on his side facing him, head softly pillowed and his hair messy over his cheek and forehead.

Mingyu’s watching him steadily, just staring at him, and Jeonghan’s tongue gets tied because Mingyu only ever stares at him _like that_ when their part in Mansae comes up and sweat’s begun making Mingyu’s hair stick to his forehead, Mingyu dipping his head to look at him from under his lashes, panting and out of breath while he rests an arm on Jeonghan’s shoulder, playing it all up for the fans. But there’s no one else around now. It’s just them. Just for Jeonghan.

Jeonghan cuts his eyes down to where Mingyu is still holding onto his waist to keep him from falling, grip strong and warm. He scoots only as close as he needs to save himself from falling off the bed and then blinks back at Mingyu wordlessly. 

Mingyu looks like he’s got no plans to restate what he’d said, only waiting for Jeonghan to respond, but Jeonghan knows Mingyu well enough to know that Mingyu’s patience wears thin in seconds. So Jeonghan nods before Mingyu gets the chance to start complaining that he’s taking too long to answer. 

Against all better judgement he concedes with a voice quiet enough to break, “Okay.”

The breath is knocked right out of Jeonghan’s chest as Mingyu beams at him, all endearing canines with his tongue peaking out for a flash of a second. 

He tugs Jeonghan closer by the hand on his waist until he can curl his arm around Jeonghan’s back, practically picking Jeonghan up like he weighs nothing as he rolls over until he’s on his back, pulling a flushed and startled Jeonghan in tow. Mingyu sets Jeonghan on top of him and Jeonghan almost cries, almost evaporates into thin air, because _he’s on top of his crush in his crush’s bed with no one else around to bother them._

Mingyu’s still smiling and looking at Jeonghan like he truly does think he’s an angel and Jeonghan is maybe having a lot of difficulty breathing properly. Because, well… it’s _Mingyu_. 

“I thought you said _you_ were coming closer, not _me_ ,” Jeonghan tries to say without his voice getting shaky. He doesn’t quite manage it. 

“I am closer to you now, though,” Mingyu explains nonchalantly with this private, cheeky smile to himself, no longer meeting Jeonghan’s eyes.

Which is good because Jeonghan just realized that both of his hands are splayed underneath him on Mingyu’s defined chest and his cheeks might be on fire. Mingyu’s not wearing a shirt. He’s already went over this but he’d just like to reiterate that _Mingyu is not wearing a damn shirt._

“Kim Mingyu…” Jeonghan starts like he’s about to scold him, plans to tell him off for the way he’s playing with him unfairly, but he’s pacified in an instant as Mingyu reaches up and brushes his fingers lightly over the high ridge of Jeonghan’s cheekbone before trailing his fingers up and leaving an electrifying path to Jeonghan’s temple where he brushes Jeonghan’s bangs behind his ear and out of his face. 

His canines poke out from his bottom lip when he bites it, concentrating as he does the same to the other side of Jeonghan’s face like he’s trying to make sure Jeonghan’s all prim and proper, hair symmetrical and unobtrusive as he gets a good look at Jeonghan’s face above him. His expression softens when he’s finished and he releases his bottom lip and catches Jeonghan’s eyes again. He doesn’t look as sleepy anymore to Jeonghan. 

The situation is getting dangerous. 

It’s one thing for them to be in bed together when they’re going to go to sleep, but if both of them are wide awake and Mingyu’s underneath Jeonghan with a wet lip and a warm blush making his tan skin glow… well… Jeonghan might have trouble resisting. 

Mingyu, on the other hand, must _definitely_ have trouble resisting, because one of his big hands reaches up and grabs the back of Jeonghan’s head and Jeonghan closes his eyes on instinct, ready for Mingyu to pull him down and kiss him, ready for all the tension that’s been building up between them to finally snap like a whipcord. Except Mingyu doesn’t. Mingyu’s fingers end up running through the short hair at the back of Jeonghan’s head and that’s it. He doesn’t bring Jeonghan’s mouth to his or do anything rated. He’s basically just petting him. 

Disappointment registers before the nervous relief. 

He flutters his eyes open and Mingyu’s continuing just to watch him as he twists strands of Jeonghan’s hair between his fingers. His gaze isn’t heated, but it’s not friendly either and if Mingyu looked at anyone else the way he’s looking at Jeonghan now Jeonghan would end up jealous. 

Mingyu’s mouth opens and the tone of his voice is so sharp it could easily slice through him. 

“You don’t look pretty anymore.”

Something inside him _sinks_ and Jeonghan immediately wants to push Mingyu away and duck out of the room like there’s fire burning at his feet. Hurt scorches his insides in a snap, gut twisting into something awful at those words alone. 

Mingyu’s fingers run up titillatingly from the nape of Jeonghan’s neck all the way to the crown of his head, fingers carding so softly through his hair, making Jeonghan shudder despite the way he wants to bury his head in the sand to hide. 

“Your hair now,” Mingyu starts to explain before Jeonghan can fully react, “it doesn’t make you look so pretty like your long hair used to. You wouldn’t get called a girl anymore by interviewers. You don’t have to hear those mom jokes all the time now.” 

Jeonghan has no idea if he’s being insulted or not, but he knows that Mingyu used to affectionately call him pretty all the time with a wide smile on his face and now he doesn’t. He doesn’t call Jeonghan anything like that anymore.

“Okay…” Jeonghan hazards slowly, crease forming between his brow, hurt tainting his features. 

Mingyu’s knuckle grazes along the line of Jeonghan’s jaw suddenly, the other hand in his hair dropping to hold onto one of Jeonghan’s forearms, thumb numbly swiping back and forth through the faint hair on his arm that’s been exposed by his pushed up sleeves. 

“Hyung… you’re really handsome now, did you know? Like me.”

Jeonghan blinks quickly, mouth dropping open wordlessly. His heart is picking up again, jackrabbiting in his chest and pulsing in his ears. That… was not what he was expecting Mingyu to say. Is it supposed to be a compliment? There’s this warm ghost of a smile on Mingyu’s lips so it can’t be an insult. Does he prefer Jeonghan’s hair more now than before?

“Do you think so?”

Mingyu pouts his lips consideringly and nods, looking up at Jeonghan while his arms both go back to being wrapped around Jeonghan’s lower back. 

“I think so too,” he tells Mingyu, because that’s easier than asking what Mingyu means by that, if he thinks it’s a good thing. “I like having short hair more. It’s easier to take care of.”

A finger traces the line of his spine and drags up between Jeonghan’s shoulder blades as he finishes the words, taking some of the fabric of his thin button-up and pulling it up a tad at the small of his back. The cool air in the room slips under the button-up’s hem and up his back along with Mingyu’s touch. 

Jeonghan shivers, head falling forward a little, not able to withhold the effect Mingyu’s having on him in the slightest. A lock of hair slips from behind his ear and brushes Mingyu’s jawline, flirtatious without meaning to be. His hands clench into fists on Mingyu’s chest and Jeonghan closes his eyes only for a moment to better control himself. Concealing everything he feels is hard for him to do when he can’t turn away and hide from the main source of his oozing heart.

He wants to kiss him. He wants to call Mingyu stupid for being so thoughtless with his actions and leading him on like this but at the same time he wants nothing more than to thank Mingyu for giving him this exhilarating feeling, for letting him think—even for a moment—that Mingyu wants him, wants this, just as badly as Jeonghan does. 

His head dips further towards his chest, forehead almost bumping against Mingyu’s chin. He blinks his eyes open and he’s staring at Mingyu’s skin, the expanse of it before him, the way Mingyu’s chest rises here and there, the dips between his collarbones and his muscles soft and hard all at once. Jeonghan’s so weak for it all; the way Mingyu’s body lies beneath him intoxicating and coaxing him into a foolishness he’s never known before. 

His impulse control is close to breaking.

Mingyu’s chest vibrates as he speaks, the lower, softer register of his voice making it resonate somehow through Jeonghan’s head. “But it’s harder to make excuses to touch it when it’s short like this.”

Jeonghan freezes, throat working through a rough swallow. He raises his head back up to see Mingyu pouting his lips, his eyebrows pulled together like he’s in anguish as he stares up at the ceiling. Like the thought of not being able to touch him makes his heart hurt. Jeonghan feels it as his heartbeat picks up once again, steady in his ears, having stalled in the familiarity of Mingyu’s warmth.

“So,” he manages despite the minor difficulty of remembering how to breathe, “you don’t like it because you can’t fuss with it?”

“No, I really do like it. It’s just—you didn’t know how to do anything with your long hair before.” Mingyu speaks slowly in a spaced sort of cadence, like every word that leaves his mouth takes a considerable amount of time to find. It’s unusual for someone like Mingyu who can speak a mile a minute, cheesy and poignant all at once like it’s easy. “You’d let me dry it when you were tired and I’d brush it when you wanted to just lean against a wall and nap but… well, I can’t really do that now. It’d be weird.”

Mingyu glances away self consciously, wets his lip and nods slightly with his words. Jeonghan is mesmerized by the way he does that, the way he talks and moves and just _exists_ while being so endearing yet stupidly oblivious. 

Mingyu has no clue how little Jeonghan cares about being fussed over. Back when Jeonghan’s hair was longer a lot of the other members would play with it and dry it for him because he’s always hated doing it and he never minded. It would get annoying sometimes when he was trying to walk or talk about something and they wouldn’t stop, but he still didn’t _hate_ it. Especially not when Mingyu was doing it. 

Of course sometimes he’d tell Mingyu to stop, mostly when they were out in public and surrounded by fans. 

A quick, “Cut it out,” mumbled under his breath when Mingyu’s fingers would slip through his hair on accident and brush along the sensitive line of his neck, causing something to stir low in his belly in interest. The amount of times Mingyu’s almost made Jeonghan hard in his pants from just a graze of his fingers along erogenous parts where he’s prone to trembling is worrying. The times it’d happened often leaving Jeonghan frustrated and oversensitive, not wanting to be touched or talked to but having to suffer through it because he didn’t want to start fights in front of their Carats.

But then there were the times when they were in private. Jeonghan’s not proud of the way he’d let things progress then until it’d border on the verge of making him groan, barely containing his elevated breathing at times. 

Mingyu would approach him after Jeonghan had just gotten out of the shower, his hands fiddling with the wet tips of Jeonghan’s hair, and he would chide lightly, “Hyung, you didn’t even dry the ends all the way. You’ll get sick like this, what were you thinking?” before taking the towel from around Jeonghan’s shoulders and patting his hair dry for him. He’d ditch the towel when satisfied only to grip Jeonghan’s upper arm and urge him back into the bathroom so he could blow dry Jeonghan’s hair for him. Always mumbling under his breath something about how, “Seriously, I know you don’t like doing this but you have to dry your hair properly. It’s too long to leave wet. Hasn’t Junnie hyung told you about how he got sick when he was a trainee because of it? Weren’t you there for that?”

Or the riskier, rarer times when they’d be sitting up in one of their dressing rooms—partly exhausted and partly exhilarated from the throbbing rush of performing on stage in front of thousands of loving fans—and Mingyu would scoot closer to him so he could reach out with shaking fingers to touch the back of Jeonghan’s head, rubbing his hand down along the back of it to his nape and up again on a loop, trying to release some of his energy by using Jeonghan as a conduit, a channel to pour his abundance of adrenaline into. 

Those times were the worst. 

The repetition of Mingyu’s touch, the way he wouldn’t stop for so long that it would get overwhelming, until Jeonghan’s skin would break out in goosebumps and every part of his body would be so sensitive he’d have to bite his lip as Mingyu’s pinky finger would stray a little further down than normal and make Jeonghan throb in a completely different way from how the echoing of the fans’ chants would. It never went further than the petting, but any time it’d take longer than normal for Mingyu’s hand to resume petting the back of his head Jeonghan would feel frenzied. Too many dirty thoughts about where Mingyu’s hands would find themselves next filling his brain before, like always, Mingyu would be back to petting him on the head. Sometimes Jeonghan would get so worked up he’d have to force Mingyu to stop by telling him to go do something for him, voice tight and eyes glazed over despite himself.

He doesn’t know how Mingyu hasn’t found out about his feelings for him. He hasn’t been as careful as he wishes he had been. Though Mingyu never seemed to notice the strange reactions he’d get out of Jeonghan… or, perhaps he did. Maybe that’s why he’d do it so often.

Then again, Mingyu’s hard-pressed to notice much of anything, always looking straight ahead at some goal off in the distance and tripping over things that are right in front of his face. The way he can focus solely on one thing and not even bombs dropping could tear him away from whatever the center of his attention is was admirable. 

Jeonghan’s always wanted to be on the opposite side of Mingyu’s attention like that. 

Mingyu glances back up at him, under his slightly long lashes that he’s got a justifiable ego over (which, arguably Mingyu has an ego over a lot of things and they’re all… well… justifiable), head tilting as he meets Jeonghan’s gaze in a curious cant. His eyes stray fleetingly to Jeonghan’s parted lips before flickering back up to his eyes. His gaze stays there, mouth closed but wet, just waiting. Or perhaps he’s too tonguetied to say anything else, not known for his patience but sure as hell known for getting shy. 

Jeonghan’s brows edge up to his hairline and his hands loosen from where he was starting to nervously clench them. 

“You don’t need an excuse to touch me, Mingyu.”

The words and their implication register a fraction too late in Jeonghan’s brain, mouth already having said them, and the mortification he feels sluices down his back and makes his eyes go wide. 

That sounded like he was talking about way more than just granting Mingyu free reign on his hair. Well, really, he probably _was_ meaning it in the same way it sounded, but _Mingyu_ can’t know that. _Shouldn’t_ know that. Shit. 

“W-Well,” he rushes to amend, “if you want to touch my hair I wo—”

Mingyu swiftly tugs both of Jeonghan’s forearms out from under him and pulls them upwards, past where his head rests back on his pillow and up until the knuckles on Jeonghan’s fingers nudge the headboard. His fingers slip up to curve around Jeonghan’s wrists and Jeonghan is too winded from the fact that Mingyu has essentially put them chest to chest and fully flush with each other to notice how close their faces have gotten now. That is to say that he doesn’t notice it until Mingyu’s nose skates along the right side of his face, past his ear, the hinge of his jaw, until Mingyu’s face is buried in Jeonghan’s neck, inhaling deeply. His lips are pressed to so much sensitive skin and Jeonghan’s heart is about to give out any second now. 

Jeonghan can’t even think. Doesn’t remember how to speak, even. Then, disorientingly, Mingyu lets go of one of Jeonghan’s wrists and, with that same hand, runs the tips of his first two fingers up the entire length of Jeonghan’s arm, over the curve of his shoulder, and partly down his back so he can hug Jeonghan even closer, edging him upwards so he can duck his face into the nook of Jeonghan’s shoulder easier. 

“Ming— _ahhn_ ,” Jeonghan lets slip midway through a shiver that curls his toes, voice going low as he can’t hold back anymore and finally lets out the noise that Mingyu seemingly was put on this Earth to coax from him. 

A moan. A breathy, low, pained-from-being-held-back-so-long _moan._

Mingyu stills. 

Mingyu didn’t even do anything. That’s the worst part. He didn’t kiss his neck or do anything lewd like lick him or something. That’s not why Jeonghan moaned. Nothing sexual happened. Mingyu just… he shifted. Just a little. Underneath Jeonghan, Mingyu moved his hip over, a leg sliding between Jeonghan’s just slightly, his knee grazing the inside of Jeonghan’s thigh, and that was too much. Too much stimulation and _touch_ and _Mingyu._ Too much of Mingyu all around him and making his head spin like crazy, everything so dizzying, and Jeonghan has flushed so red in the face it’s obvious what kind of noise that was. 

He’s ruined everything. 

Their friendship is over. 

Mingyu won’t talk to him anymore because it’d be too awkward to know your friend likes you. That your friend gets hot under the collar just from being close to you. Mingyu is going to rethink every other time they’ve slept in the same bed now. Any time they were close like this. 

Jeonghan’s screwed up so royally not even duct tape can fix this. 

But, then… a miracle. 

That grip Mingyu has on his wrist tightens as Mingyu’s mouth parts against his skin, not moving from where he’s pressed everywhere to Jeonghan. He speaks. 

“Hyung?” Mingyu’s lips drag, breath hot and damp against Jeonghan’s neck. His voice, quiet and fragile, teeters on something he hasn’t decided yet, doesn’t know the answer to. 

Jeonghan releases the shaky breath that’s started to cloister up in his chest and squeezes his eyes closed so he doesn’t have to watch the way his breath ruffles the soft hair aside the shell of Mingyu’s ear. 

He evens his tone as best as he can, answers, “Yes?” 

“Are you…” Mingyu pauses briefly, searching for the words, before landing on, “okay?”

Jeonghan hesitates. Then, with a choppy nod, hems, “M-Mm.” 

Mingyu doesn’t say anything for a pregnant beat, letting the awkward air around them sit, letting Jeonghan marinate in it. Jeonghan’s so uncomfortable he’s half tempted to get up and hide out back in his own room only until he’s forced to leave it by his manager and their group schedules. But if he got up right now it’d probably be even more embarrassing for him than what just happened. 

He could try to play off the noise he made but the way his jeans are tight around everywhere they shouldn’t be when on top of a friend is too incriminating to lie his way out of. He can’t do anything about that. He just needs to think about gross, not Mingyu shaped or looking or smelling or… or Mingyu _feeling_ things before he can attempt to leave. 

Mingyu stops him from thinking, however, by releasing his other wrist and moving his newly freed hand down to blindly cup Jeonghan’s cheek, thumb stroking the cut of his high cheekbone, face still hidden in Jeonghan’s neck. 

“Hyung, are… you…?”

Jeonghan quickly shakes his head, mumbling, “No, no.”

Mingyu’s fingers trail passed his eyebrow, carding through his hair now. 

“Are you sure?”

“Mingyu,” Jeonghan warns tartly. “I’m okay.”

Something about Mingyu’s voice is different as he says, “That’s not what I’m asking anymore.”

“What are you then if not…” tapering off, Jeonghan’s eyes flutter open. 

Is Mingyu suggesting… does he _know_? Is he… is he okay with it then? He’s petting him again… does he not mind at all? Can he feel Jeonghan against him?

Mingyu’s voice this time—when he speaks—isn’t as weedy and unsure as before. His voice carrying a touch of confidence in it along the same vein as when he had proudly come up to Jeonghan back when they were trainees and told him to call him sunbaenim. This sureness there that he doesn’t exactly _lack_ per say, but that often gets buried by how embarrassing and shy he can be. 

But it’s there now when he tells Jeonghan, his mouth skimming up Jeonghan’s neck as he starts to lift his head, nose against the side of his cheekbone, lips at Jeonghan’s earlobe, hushed, “Hyung, you don’t have to hide it from me.”

Mingyu’s breath curls intimately around Jeonghan’s ear, his hand caught in Jeonghan’s hair, the arm around Jeonghan’s back tight and weighty. If Mingyu rolled them over he’d cover Jeonghan from head to toe, and with his entire weight on him he’d have nowhere to run. Jeonghan would have to meet Mingyu’s eyes and talk to him. Face this.

But like this he doesn’t have to. He can just go quiet, let his eyes shut once again, and hold his breath. Let Mingyu do the talking. See how Mingyu proceeds with the variety of conclusions he must’ve drawn from that desperate sound Jeonghan made so Jeonghan won’t misread this situation and fuck things up even more. 

Mingyu doesn’t continue, though. He holds himself at Jeonghan’s ear and works his fingers through Jeonghan’s hair and stays silent. It’s not uncomfortable, but rather the silence just makes everything seem more illicit, the soft breathing between the two of them getting heavier as they wait for the other shoe to drop. 

Mingyu’s fingers skate over the back of Jeonghan’s ear and his lower lip stings as he bites down on it too hard, trying to clamp down another noise. The breath on his skin is getting to be too much and Jeonghan can’t keep quiet anymore. Not when it’s obvious that Mingyu isn’t going to say anything else. 

“Mingyu,” he whispers, fingers grappling at the pillow underneath Mingyu’s head, wanting to touch something before he bursts. “What’s happening?”

Mingyu draws back from Jeonghan and somehow that’s even worse, because now they’re _staring_ at each other and Jeonghan’s bottom lip pops out from between his teeth in a soft gasp, a simple _‘oh’_ because that’s a _lot_ to take in. 

Mingyu looks so hot Jeonghan doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

Cheeks lurid and flushed with hazy eyes blown much blacker than normal, Mingyu looks exactly like how Jeonghan thinks he himself must. Which means he’s not alone here. Mingyu is between the same rock and a hard place that Jeonghan is and _that_ is enough to get Jeonghan’s nerves to begin unknotting themselves. 

“What do you think is happening?” Mingyu prompts, his puffy pink lips quirking playfully like he already knows what Jeonghan is going to say. 

“I don’t know… nothing good,” he murmurs, head shaking minutely, not able to tear his attention away from the blush on the tips of Mingyu’s ears. 

Mingyu’s gaze drops to Jeonghan’s lips as his own move to ask, “Angel?”

He feels it as his heart slams painfully into his rib cage at the familiar yet rare pet name. 

“Yes?”

“We don’t have to be good, do we?”

He doesn’t even bother responding. Jeonghan’s mouth is on Mingyu’s before Mingyu can fully react to it, kissing him like a car crash, fast and bruising, leaving Mingyu reeling at the impact of it. 

His nose bumps into Mingyu’s before he rights the angle with a tilt of his head, mouth dropping open against Mingyu’s closed lips like he can’t waste any time, like he can’t stop to think. His elbows drag across the pillow as he brings his arms down enough to prop himself up on his forearms, hovering just above where Mingyu’s looking up at him with wide, stunned eyes. He rolls into Mingyu and Mingyu’s eyes flutter closed just as his lips drop open on a shivering, drawn out ‘ _ah,’_ voice gossamer soft and wounded, not expecting the sizzle that the roll of Jeonghan’s hips sent up his spine. 

It’s enough of an opening for Jeonghan to take. His mouth finds Mingyu’s properly now, tongue laving at his top lip fleetingly, only a tease, before he’s licking into Mingyu’s mouth and meeting Mingyu’s tongue. Mingyu’s hands clench in the fabric of Jeonghan’s shirt and in his hair in turn, Jeonghan’s scalp stinging and giving cause for his hips to jerk again, and it’s all so close and tactile. They’re touching everywhere, bodies melded together, mouths wet and hot and not stopping any time soon, these high little whines leaving Mingyu’s mouth as Jeonghan can’t stop himself from moving along the hard line of Mingyu’s body for some relief against the pain of Mingyu’s grip on his hair. 

And it’s… its perfect. 

It’s all this frustration and all the collection of shy looksand accidental grazes of fingers over skin that have been building up for years and years coalescing together in this one tremendous meeting of sighs and hitches and rolls and moans and it’s _everything_. 

It’s everything Jeonghan has wanted and thought about since that day so long ago when Mingyu extended his warm palm out to Jeonghan and held onto his hand even while nervous tremors shook Jeonghan’s fingers, jitters running through him because it was his first time ever going through an evaluation and he didn’t feel prepared enough for it. But there was Mingyu who saw Jeonghan and reached out to him with so much care in his voice that for a moment Jeonghan forgot about all the stress that was suffocating him, just letting his shoulders sag as Mingyu quietly told him that he sounded good and asked if he wanted to sit with him. He sat with him and sung with him, walked around the practice room with Jeonghan’s fingers entwined with his and assured him at times while guiding him during others. 

The kindness Mingyu showed him when he first joined the group left Jeonghan with butterflies lodged in his stomach that he could never manage to dislodge even after five years. 

And now here they are like destined, foreheads pressed together, mouths dragging and biting and breathing so heavily in the otherwise quietness of the room that when Mingyu raises his knee and slides it between Jeonghan’s thighs fully the groan that tears out from Jeonghan’s throat echoes jarringly around them in contrast. It’s loud enough to resonate, ping ponging around in both of their heads, and Jeonghan has to catch his breath before he turns to throw a look over his shoulder to the door between them and all the other members down the hall. 

It’s like having a bucket of ice dumped on him. Minghao will be coming back any second now and he can’t find them like this, Jeonghan perched on top of Mingyu while Mingyu urges him on with these needy, breathy sounds. They haven’t even really talked about whatever it is they’re doing right now. Some words might be necessary now. Needed, actually. 

“Stop, Mingyu,” Jeonghan urges, hand starting to press down on Mingyu’s chest for emphasis because Mingyu’s mouth had landed over the pulse point on his neck when he’d looked away and that’s too dizzying to allow him enough focus. 

Mingyu doesn’t stop right away, teeth skirting the delicate skin on Jeonghan’s neck as he alternates between gentle nips and kisses. Jeonghan can’t help but let loose another whimper, more from the fact that he knows he has to put an end to this than anything. 

He says again, thready but still solid somehow, “Really, Mingyu-ya, it’s time to stop.”

Mingyu allows himself one more kiss to Jeonghan’s skin before pulling back with a deep, shaky exhale, flopping back on the bed like bricks have fallen on his chest, every part of him heavy when he’s not kissing Jeonghan. 

“What’s wrong?” Mingyu asks, worrying at his lower lip with his tongue, swiping back and forth over a slight cut Jeonghan must’ve made on accident while kissing the life out of him.

Jeonghan has the sense to feel a little sorry for that, thumb leaving Mingyu’s chest for only a moment so he can swipe it over Mingyu’s sore bottom lip in sympathy.

“Nothing's wrong. I mean, this is… this is _right_ ,” he admits with feeling, heart leaking all over them from just how much emotion Jeonghan lets slip from his mouth. “This is the one right thing we’ve done in years. I want this. I… I held off on wanting this for as long as I could. Pretended, even, that I didn’t want it—want you—for so long that just touching you like this feels like I’m going insane. But… but it has to stop here.”

The hope that’d started lighting up Mingyu’s face at Jeonghan’s words fades, fades, fades, until it evaporates entirely. Mingyu’s cheeks drop, smile faltering, and then his eyes do this awful fluttering as if he doesn’t know what else to do, might even tear up if Jeonghan says anything more to crush his heart. 

Jeonghan’s chest almost bursts in his rush to clarify, “ _For now._ We have to stop _for now_. Please don’t—stop looking like that. I wouldn’t ever think about stopping this if I didn’t have to. If _we_ didn’t have to.”

Mingyu shakes his head, slow to catch on.

“Eh?”

Jeonghan sinks into him more as he relaxes his shoulders, Mingyu so confused below him that it’s hard not to find it cute, the parted ‘o’ of Mingyu’s puffy lips and the raise of his brows endearing beyond Jeonghan’s ability to handle without quickly dipping back in for a short, chaste kiss before popping back up. Mingyu doesn’t even react to the kiss, still trying to process what Jeonghan’s saying. 

With a sigh, Jeonghan reminds him, “Minghao.”

“What about him?” Mingyu huffs, quickly going cross. 

Mingyu’s always so easy to make jealous.

Jeonghan has to roll his eyes, because, well… really? What, did Mingyu think Jeonghan suddenly realized he was in love with Minghao and couldn’t be with Mingyu or something? Come on. 

“Your _roommate_. He could come in any moment now.”

The realization must finally dawn on Mingyu as he groans, releasing Jeonghan to dig the heels of his palms into his eyes, scrubbing his face. The waves of frustration coming off of him are so strong Jeonghan almost gets knocked over by it. 

“ _Minghao_ …” Mingyu mutters and for the first time in all the time Jeonghan’s known Mingyu, he think Mingyu might actually want to fight with his best friend for real. Jeonghan’s kind of flattered by that. 

“Yeah,” he agrees with a solemn nod, feeling the same regrets that Mingyu must be, “Minghao.”

Mingyu drops his hands and looks up at Jeonghan, bottom lip sticking out a little in a deceptive pout. 

“Do we have to worry about Minghao? Can’t we just… forget about him for now?”

Mingyu’s giving Jeonghan serious puppy eyes. Like, pouting is one thing, but _puppy eyes_? From _Mingyu_? Someone might as well have just tore his heart right out of his chest and shot it off into _space_. 

Jeonghan is a weak man. Mingyu is evil (and definitely learning a few tricks from Jeonghan). 

“F-Fine. For a minute. Just—” Jeonghan stops Mingyu halfway to his face, Mingyu’s lips now pressed to Jeonghan’s palm from when he briskly blocked the kiss Mingyu was aiming for “—a minute.”

Mingyu nods seriously, smooshed lips dragging across Jeonghan’s palm comically, and Jeonghan bites his lip to stave off the giggle that almost bubbles up. He swallows and then nods to Mingyu, slowly removing his hand only to bury it in Mingyu’s thick hair. He gets a good handful (getting distracted only for a beat by just how _soft_ his hair is) and then he dives for it, opening Mingyu’s mouth with his own and reveling in the low, rumbling sound Mingyu makes, so pleased that Jeonghan’s finally kissing him again that he can’t help making it known. 

Mingyu’s hands fly immediately to Jeonghan’s hips, fingers testing just how tight his grip can get before Jeonghan will hiss and tell him to stop (which is not that tight, he finds out within seconds, Jeonghan complaining with a reedy “ah, ah, ah” between kisses, forehead pressing against Mingyu’s while he flings a hand blindly behind himself and grabs at one of Mingyu’s wrists to caution him). Mingyu’s fingers flex like he’s preparing for something but Jeonghan is too caught up in the way Mingyu licks at the roof of his mouth and makes his whole body shiver, toes curling and his thighs going tight around the leg Mingyu still has between them, that he doesn’t think anything of it. 

“Shit,” Jeonghan curses as he rips his mouth away from Mingyu’s, the skin at the back of his neck burning and starting to make his head feel like it’s steeped in oozing lava.

Mingyu’s thigh presses up more until he accidentally (or maybe it was on purpose, his motives sketchy at the moment) rubs against Jeonghan’s crotch and Jeonghan falls face-first into him. His nose lands smooshed into the meat of Mingyu’s shoulder and he lets his mouth drop open there, breathing heavily against Mingyu’s skin, vulnerable more now than before as he lets his mind blur out at the edges, lets Mingyu do what he wants despite knowing they need to stop. 

The fingers on his hips flex again, Mingyu making this soft, contemplative noise right by Jeonghan’s ear, and then Jeonghan’s stomach does somersaults over his head as Mingyu tightens his hands on him and then rolls them over. One of Jeonghan’s knees hits the wall as his legs drop open and Jeonghan shakes his head to clear it. When he blinks his eyes open and wills away the dizziness he looks up to see Mingyu on his knees between his spread legs. His knee throbs a little but his brain is too overloaded by how hot the sight of Mingyu up on his knees and before Jeonghan is to even give a damn.

Mingyu’s chest is completely exposed like this, the covers having gotten tangled and lost somewhere behind Mingyu’s back. His breathing is erratic, chest stuttering, and his hands have gone from Jeonghan’s sides to his thighs where his fingers warm over the fabric of Jeonghan’s pants. Mingyu looks at him, stare heavy like a physical touch at each place on Jeonghan’s body that he glances at. His gaze holds on this soft patch of skin on Jeonghan’s stomach where a few of the buttons have come undone and his shirt’s been pulled up on accident. His eyes flick up to Jeonghan’s.

“Jeonghan.”

It’s all Mingyu says but there’s meaning to it. No honorifics, just Mingyu saying his name like a plea, or perhaps he means it as a question. But whatever he means it as, the way he says it, the clipped tone, succinct and bold, makes Jeonghan squirm, hitting a kink he didn’t know he had.

Jeonghan quickly looks down about himself and then back up. “What?”

“Did you really have to wear all this?” Mingyu complains, fingering the edge of one of Jeonghan’s pockets, frowning, looking grumpy and turned on all at the same time.

Jeonghan has to laugh. Here he thought Mingyu was going to say something with purpose and intent, something incendiary, but really he just wanted to whine. It’s cute.

“Some of us didn’t have time to sneak away and change before following our orders,” he points out, raising up on an elbow to flick Mingyu’s forehead quickly before dropping back down.

Mingyu claps a hand over his forehead afterwards, brow furrowing, voicing raising as he says, “Hey!”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, smiling. “Don’t be a baby.”

“I’m not,” Mingyu defends. “You shouldn’t flick me when you’re the best at it, you always make it hurt.”

Jeonghan runs a hand through his own bangs, ruffling them to get them off his sweaty forehead. Huffing a little, he suggests lightly, “You should learn to handle pain better or just listen to orders then.”

Mingyu’s smile fades, eyes shuttering through an emotion Jeonghan can’t parse quick enough. He looks away from Jeonghan’s face and to the wall, red staining his cheeks like a rouge, beginning to frown. Jeonghan blinks, intrigued.

“Mingyu?” he calls, trying to catch Mingyu’s gaze.

It takes a moment, but Mingyu finally turns back to Jeonghan with a: “Do you want that?”

Understandably, Jeonghan has to take a moment to try and figure out what Mingyu means. 

“Do I want you to listen better?” he guesses.

Mingyu nods, hands back to Jeonghan’s thighs.

“Wouldn’t everything be better if I never had to scold you or any of the kids? I don’t like saying the same thing twice, but you never listen the first time.” Jeonghan shakes his head purposelessly, just doing something for the sake of it. He wants to go back to kissing but Mingyu’s way up there and he’s way down here, too lazy to get up and meet Mingyu in the middle. “That’s why we fight all the time.”

Mingyu blinks kind of dumbly, nodding slightly along with Jeonghan’s words.

“You know,” Mingyu starts, a considerable amount of nerves shaking his voice, “I actually… I like that. It’s fun. To argue with you.” He laughs a little. “Watching you puff yourself up to be bigger and raise your voice is interesting. You don’t scold me the same way Seungcheol does. Not like you’re my leader or someone older. You fight with me like we’re the same age. Like how friends fight. Or… it’s like how couples fight.”

Jeonghan has to gape at him, because… _seriously_?

“So that’s why you never listen to me? Because it’s funny?” Jeonghan’s voice cracks a little.

“Now who’s bad at listening?” Mingyu jokes.

“What do you mean?”

“Ah, what to do… hyung really doesn’t listen?” Mingyu clicks his tongue. “I said I don’t do it just because it’s funny. I do it because we fight like we’re married. It’s nice,” Mingyu admits with a small shrug, dropping down over Jeonghan as he talks, forearms landing stacked on each other just above Jeonghan’s head, bringing their faces and bodies close together again.

“Like a couple…” Jeonghan trails off, staring at the pretty beauty mark on Mingyu’s cheek.

“Yeah.” Mingyu ducks down to kiss Jeonghan’s nose. “But I don’t actually like being told what to do either.” A kiss to Jeonghan’s cheek. “Well… sometimes I like it.” He places a kiss to Jeonghan’s jaw. “I like being needed.” Another sweet press of his lips to the corner of Jeonghan’s mouth. “I like when you tell me to do something for you, too.”

Mingyu raises up after he says those words, nose centimeters from Jeonghan’s. His eyes are dark again, voice lower. He’s trying to coax a reaction from Jeonghan, Jeonghan can tell. He’s flirting. Jeonghan doesn’t know what he wants exactly, though.

Mingyu’s smile grows less naughty and melts instead to something gentler the longer Jeonghan stares at him without understanding what Mingyu’s subtly playing at.

Jeonghan doesn’t care what Mingyu’s after, just reaches up to grab the back of Mingyu’s head and pull him down for a real kiss this time, tongue insistent and free hand scrabbling for some leverage but finding nothing to grab besides Mingyu’s shoulder. He’s not happy with that, though. He bites Mingyu’s lip, licks into his mouth, and slides his hand from Mingyu’s shoulder down until his hand is at the band of Mingyu’s sweatpants. He hooks his thumb under the band and then buries his fingers into the fabric, holding on.

Mingyu jumps when he does it, makes this sheltered whining noise and furrows his brow into the kiss. Between kisses Mingyu pants, slowly starting to lower himself until he’s flush with Jeonghan everywhere again and with this change in position Jeonghan’s mind starts to fizzle out into nothing, because he can feel it. He can feel just how into this Mingyu is just like he is, feel the way Mingyu’s hard against his thigh, sweatpants doing nothing to make it anything less than obvious.

Jeonghan closes his eyes and breathes out quickly, pulling at Mingyu’s sweatpants, urging Mingyu’s hips to move into his, wanting that release. Mingyu follows along easily without needing any verbal cues, rolling down into Jeonghan just once, watching Jeonghan’s face as he does it. It must be too much even for him because his forehead drops to Jeonghan’s and they both moan at the same time, mouths hanging just shy a centimeter or two from each other.

“Hyung,” Mingyu pants messily against the side of Jeonghan’s cheekbone, his voice already gone all ruined just from that little bit of frottage.

Jeonghan bites at Mingyu’s jaw and tries angling his hips up for more contact. He huffs, annoyed that Mingyu isn’t still rocking into him. “What is it?”

“What happened to ‘just for a minute?’”

Jeonghan snaps his eyes open, then scowls, hearing the smug tone Mingyu’s affected. If they were under any other circumstance Jeonghan would have just leveled Mingyu with a look that said he didn’t appreciate the attitude and then he would have walked away and not turned back no matter how much Mingyu whined. But Mingyu is currently on top of him, his top off, pressed all over Jeonghan, his mouth gone cherry red, and Jeonghan can feel how hard he is in his sweatpants. So… yeah. Jeonghan isn’t fucking budging.

The best he can do is spit crankily, “Do you want me to kick you out of your own room?”

Mingyu breathes out a laugh with his lips pressed to Jeonghan’s temple, shoulders shaking with it. After a moment the muscles in Mingyu’s arms begin to tense and Jeonghan looks from Mingyu’s ear down to the little space between their bodies just in time to watch as Mingyu puts all that dance practice to good use to slowly grind down into him. Jeonghan digs his fingers into Mingyu’s hair, getting a fistful of it, because Mingyu doesn’t stop this time. He continues with this controlled, methodical rolling of his hips without stopping, rutting into Jeonghan while breathing heavily just at Jeonghan’s ear, breath hot and throat clicking each time he swallows roughly around a few low pitched sounds he doesn’t want to escape.

With each roll of Mingyu’s hips Jeonghan’s getting pushed further and further up the bed, Mingyu having to adjust each time so they don’t get too far away, and Jeonghan keeps letting out these harsh hissing noises each time he does it. A grind, Jeonghan’s teeth clench, back arching then settling, and rinse and repeat. It’s surprisingly quiet, though—what they’re doing. Both of them are holding back and it’s obvious, Mingyu’s lip swollen from biting it and Jeonghan finding himself pressing his fingers to his own mouth to keep in any sound that risks ripping out from his throat when Mingyu gets the angle just right and has Jeonghan throbbing, legs shaking without stopping.

So while what they’re doing is stupid and dangerous, they’re still taking precautions. But Mingyu didn’t lock the door behind himself like he thought about fleetingly earlier. Jeonghan is aware of that. Hell, it’s impossible not to be aware of it when he’s spent years in a shared space with twelve other boys (and more, back before they debuted) all while everyone’s hormones were going out of whack as they grew up. But it’s hard to care enough to stop when Mingyu falls forward some more, face ducked down to hide in Jeonghan’s neck again, and lets out this thready, high pitched whimper like he’s going to die without Jeonghan there to get him off.

“Hannie,” Mingyu chokes out, a plea, his wet mouth brushing Jeonghan’s skin, arms trembling minutely from just how long he’s been holding himself above Jeonghan. “I want to do more.”

Jeonghan shakes his head. “What more can we do?”

“Clothes,” Mingyu mumbles, kissing Jeonghan’s skin. “I want to take them off of you.”

Jeonghan scratches at Mingyu’s scalp and cuts his eyes over to the dorm room’s door. They’ve been in here for over ten minutes, easily. It can’t be long before Minghao is going to be stumbling through the door, tired and groggy, and then he’ll see the two of them on the bed and… and… Jeonghan doesn’t want to think about it. But he has to. He’s the older one here, the more responsible one even when he’s lazier, and he knows Mingyu’s not thinking straight. Mingyu’s younger, more eager, puppy-like and headstrong, and he’s not going to stop this on his own unless an avalanche takes them out.

Strained, he manages a choked: “Minghao is going to be here any minute.”

Jeonghan hates himself for saying it.

Mingyu’s mouth opens right at Jeonghan’s pulse point and then his tongue, warm and wet, licks up to the hard line of Jeonghan’s jaw where he bites a little salaciously, dragging it out and making Jeonghan buck under him. If Mingyu weren’t as big, weren’t as solid and strong, Jeonghan would’ve knocked him right off, letting loose this blown out hiss like he’s dying.

“Forget about him,” Mingyu coaxes just at his ear, misplacing one of his arms from above Jeonghan’s head so he can instead find the buttons on Jeonghan’s shirt, fingers tugging at one of the buttons until it pops open. “Please.”

Mingyu pops another two buttons like they’re nothing, palm slipping under the bottom of Jeonghan’s shirt and splaying out wide over the soft skin of his stomach. The muscles there shift, Jeonghan throbbing again at the proximity of Mingyu’s hand to where he’s started leaking in his pants, and Jeonghan’s jaw clenches, too many thoughts erupting in his head all at once.

Mingyu whispers again, sinful as he takes Jeonghan’s earlobe between his teeth just before, “Please, hyung.”

Jeonghan wants to melt, to dissolve, to be sucked up by a black hole and be twisted and taken apart beyond recognition, beyond coherency or consciousness, because even though his whole body is screaming at him to say yes, to listen to the way Mingyu teases the word ‘hyung’ like he knows exactly what it does to Jeonghan, Jeonghan isn’t going to say yes. Jeonghan has to put a stop to this now. He allowed it to go too far. He allowed Mingyu to string him along, play with him in the same way he does when they fight, and now Jeonghan’s cock is aching and his face is burning and Mingyu’s desperate sounds, the whines begging for release, are seared into his brain like a brand. And he just has to live with it. He has to say no to it.

“Mingyu-ya,” Jeonghan starts, trying for something gentle despite how rough Mingyu is as he rocks into Jeonghan again. Jeonghan swallows around what feels like a golf ball lodged in his throat and squeezes his eyes shut. “We can’t. We’ve got to end this here.”

Mingyu whimpers. Actually whimpers like a puppy that’s just been kicked and Jeonghan’s whole heart squeezes tight, regret coiling up in his gut like a toxin. He wishes he could spoil Mingyu and give him what he wants, but he really can’t. 

“Really?” Mingyu asks, so quiet, body gone entirely still save for the thumb that rubs back and forth over Jeonghan’s navel.

“Really,” he replies, a finality in his voice that halts everything.

Mingyu’s whole body sags, dropping his head down into the pillow beside Jeonghan’s ear, his hair ticking Jeonghan’s cheek. Mingyu gives a nod and somehow even without looking Jeonghan knows Mingyu’s pouting.

“Can I—” Mingyu stops himself as his voice cracks, wound up too tight. He exhales noisily, clearing his throat. “Can I go… I… I need to...”

Jeonghan opens his eyes and stares at the popcorn ceiling, the swirling patterns in the texture of it.

Mingyu’s asking for his permission to excuse himself to the bathroom so he can get off without him. Jeonghan doesn’t know why he feels bad about that. It’s not like he’s the one who started this whole thing or… or… okay, well, he guess he was the one who started this. He’s lead Mingyu on only to tell him at the end to do it himself because they can’t get caught doing it together. But… Jeonghan doesn’t want Mingyu to leave either.

“Do you… do you have to?” he asks instead of answering.

Mingyu’s hands slip out from under him, spreading out on the bed, and then he’s raising up onto all fours and staring at Jeonghan like he’s some unsolvable anomaly.

“What?”

“Do—” Jeonghan swallows and forces himself to meet Mingyu’s gaze “—you have to go?”

“Would you rather be the one to leave?”

“No. No, that’s not what I’m getting at—” he stops himself and sighs. “Can’t we just… go to sleep? Like we were?”

Mingyu blinks. Beyond bewildered, he prompts, “You’d want to stay?”

“Y-Yeah. Yes. If you want. I-I mean, I don’t… I don’t want to go.”

Mingyu’s face goes slack, softening like he’s just seen an angel and all his cares have begun to fall away, enlightened. He smiles, soft and genial, face so open it’s obvious how happy he is, how he feels about Jeonghan.

Then, it changes. Mingyu frowns.

“Wait… so you want to just ignore all of… all of our urges?” Mingyu says skeptically, looking down Jeonghan’s body at the obvious bulge that Jeonghan himself is all too aware off, cock burning and aching from how tight and uncomfortable his jeans are. “Just… do nothing? Go to sleep like this?”

Jeonghan thinks on that for a minute, lets it ferment. 

“It could be exciting,” Jeonghan admits, hitching one shoulder up in a half-assed shrug. “Trying to hold off.”

Mingyu looks like he thinks it’d be an awful idea, looks like he’s already resigned to hating it before they’ve even tried. “I don’t know about that. It just sounds like a pain.”

Jeonghan opens his mouth to say fine, that he’ll just leave instead, but then a lightbulb goes off. He replays their conversation from just a few minutes ago back in his head, remembers the obvious embarrassment from Mingyu that he saw but didn’t quite understand, and then he gets it.

“Oh yeah,” he teases, crooked grin on his face. “But don’t you like when I tell you to do things?”

Mingyu’s mouth parts, eyes glossing over for a moment. Jeonghan blindly raises his arm up beside his head, searching for where Mingyu’s propped himself up, until he can wrap a hand around Mingyu’s wrist.

“What if I tell you to keep your hands to yourself? I’m off limits until the morning and I don’t want you to do anything erotic until then.”

Mingyu’s head falls, hanging down like he’s ashamed or too shy to meet Jeonghan’s gaze anymore, hair falling in front of his face like a curtain. Jeonghan watches as Mingyu visibly rolls his shoulders to shake off a shiver. Mingyu mumbles something hard, just under his breath, and throws himself sideways so he lands beside Jeonghan on the bed, both of them on their backs. His chest is rising and falling choppily and he abortively moves a hand to his sweatpants like he wants to stick it under the band to adjust his briefs but remembers himself, dropping the hand dumbly at his side instead.

Jeonghan watches him from the side, out of the corner of his eye, and almost laughs at how pained Mingyu’s face is, all screwed up and red, desperate like the situation he’s found himself in is life or death.

“Hyung,” Mingyu whines, burying his face in his hands and not even turning to look at Jeonghan, “you’re truly evil.”

Jeonghan laughs, turning onto his side and scooting close so he can cozy up to Mingyu’s side, letting his leg drop over Mingyu’s, knowing fully well that Mingyu can feel how hard he is against his thigh.

“But you put up with me anyway.”

Mingyu lets out a quiet noise, a rumble in his chest like frustration.

“I shouldn’t.”

“But you always do.”

“I know,” Mingyu agrees plaintively.

Jeonghan smiles and pillows his head on Mingyu’s upper arm as Mingyu finally drops his hands from his reddened face.

“You’ll do anything I ask, won’t you?”

Mingyu’s mouth opens then closes, yo-yos a bit around something he wants to say, hesitating for a moment, eyes closed like he can’t believe he’s doing this, but then he nods.

“Mingyu-ya,” he calls softly, blowing air on Mingyu’s neck. So many ideas are racing through his head at the way Mingyu’s reacting, curiosity and something lecherous making Jeonghan’s mouth go dry. Testing him, he asks, “Whose servant are you?”

Mingyu breath hitches, eyes screwing up tighter, muscles tensing everywhere, Jeonghan striking a nerve.

“Fuck,” Mingyu hisses, one of the few times Jeonghan’s heard Mingyu cuss in months.

Jeonghan feels something like electricity in his fingertips as he pokes under Mingyu’s chin, goading him on. “Hm?”

“Ah, hyung, don’t do it,” Mingyu drags out, batting away Jeonghan’s hand and chancing a look down at him. 

Jeonghan looks at Mingyu with a fraudulently innocent gaze, lips pouting and voice going purposefully sweeter, as he asks, “You won’t say it?”

Mingyu makes another weird noise, his other arm coming up to slap a hand over his face in embarrassment, smiling despite himself, weak to Jeonghan’s aegyo every time.

“Please don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“I can’t… I can’t be still if you keep this up.”

“Mingyu,” Jeonghan continues, ignoring him. “You’ll listen to me if I tell you to, right? You wouldn’t do what I tell you not to, right?”

Mingyu shakes his head, hiding his eyes behind his hand.

“Ah, because you’re a good dongsaeng, right?”

Mingyu’s legs shift a little but he nods anyway.

He asks again, gaze flickering down to where a patch of Mingyu’s sweatpants have gone darker, wet right where he’s hard, “Whose servant are you?”

Mingyu makes a quiet sound, a sigh, hand falling away so he can turn his head to face Jeonghan’s, their noses close and mouths inches apart.

“Jeonghan hyung’s servant,” Mingyu gets out, voice so low and rough it’s almost hard to hear, lighting every part of Jeonghan’s body on fire.

Jeonghan smiles, feeling something settle in his stomach that he hadn’t notice was off until just then. With a lazy, drawn out and final kiss that has Mingyu’s hands curled tight into fists at his sides, Jeonghan pulls away from Mingyu’s smarting mouth and praises happily, “Good puppy.”

**Author's Note:**

> [twit](https://twitter.com/kaiftmingyu), [gyuhan twit](https://twitter.com/forgyuhan/), [tumblr](http://gyuldaengie.tumblr.com/)


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